


Echos in the Abyss

by krafty



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: BAMF Vanya Hargreeves, Everyone Is Alive, Gen, Magic, She's magic that's it, Stuttering Diego Hargreeves, The Pogo Stick has been added to the Chat, Vanya Hargreeves Deserves Better, Vanya Hargreeves Has Powers, Vanya Hargreeves-centric, barely, hopefully soon anyway, just not the right ones, no beta we die like ben, plot twist: I don't know what's happening either, plot? never heard of it, what's happening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:08:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26943418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krafty/pseuds/krafty
Summary: Vanya finds a strange book in her dad’s office. Little did she know it had more power than even Reginald knew. It was just pretty, honest.//Not Beta Read, OOC at best
Comments: 8
Kudos: 72





	1. I didn't read the fine print

It’s a rainy afternoon, and the Hargreeves mansion is dark. The sky is clouded, painted a chilly blue. Most of the children inside the home are gone— all but one are out on a mission to save the world. It never ends, just mission after tiring mission.

Not that Vanya could relate. She’s the only one left behind as the dust settles. It’s how it is. It’s how it’s always been.

She sets her violin down gently, having practiced a good amount today. She loves playing it, loves hearing the sounds the beautiful instrument can make when in the right hands. But it can get boring, and once that seeps in, the loneliness starts. That’s why she finds herself ascending the marble steps to her father’s office. She reaches the oak door and twists the knob, knowing it’s unlocked. She lets herself in and makes her way to the bookshelf.

She enjoys immersing herself in fictitious worlds like the ones in her books, but recently, she’s run out of words to read. Not that rereading books is bad, but a change would be nice.

Her fingers slide along the spines of countless books. Her eyes sparkle as she reads titles effortlessly. While she’s standing at the heavy bookshelf in her dad’s room, she finds a book wedged between two newer ones. It’s leathery, and its pages are yellowed with age. Her hands catch on it, and she quirks a brow in quiet curiosity.

Ah, what the heck, why not? She pulls it out of its place on the shelf and walks back to her room, avoiding the natural creaks in the floorboards below. When she gets there, she makes sure to close her door tightly. This is _hers_.

She sits on her bed, which groans with the effort, and opens the book, flipping to a random page. There’s some sort of symbol scrawled on it. A rune, she’d exclaim, if only she were younger. She’d been so much happier back then. Simpler times, she supposes.

Regardless, this symbol does have some uncanny resemblance to what she’d expect to see in a witch film. She rushes to her desk and pulls out a pen and a pad of paper. She quickly sketches the rune, glancing back at the book every so often to make sure she’s getting the details right. She stares at the lines running across the page. It felt so natural to draw, so much so that her blue ballpoint pen was like an extension of herself in the moment.

She tears off the piece of paper and goes back to her bed. She sits on top of her sheets and blankets, stares real hard at the strange triangle marking up half the page. And yet, she has no idea what it means.

With a small sigh of frustration, she drops the paper. Of course it’s just some stupid sign in a dumb book. Another dead end. Of _course._ What was she thinking, getting her hopes up? She’ll never be worth her weight, not like everyone else is.

She doesn’t let the tears fall. They sting her eyes but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. Not this, not her. Only the golden children of the Umbrella Academy will ever be worth a glance.

She slams the paper down and groans. Stupid, stupid, _stupid—_

 _—_ fire?!

Fire engulfs the sheet of paper and she flinches back, eyes wide. Flames dance in her wide brown eyes. She puts it out as fast as she can, hands shaking.

What… what just happened? Did she do that? No, no, she’s _ordinary._ She can’t do things like her siblings can. She’s under where the low bar is set, way way down on the ground. Fitting for the disappointment of the family.

Yet… what else could explain this? A random fire out of nowhere? Was there a match hidden in her sheets?

She grabs another piece of paper and jots the symbol down. What did she do again? She thinks she touched it.

She taps the ink with trembling yet delicate fingers. A small flame erupts, licking at the paper.

That settles it– Vanya Hargreeves isn’t going to be the ordinary kid any longer, not if this book has anything to say about it. And its words say a _lot._

Is it a crutch? Well, to put it simply: she doesn’t care. Because this? It’s magic. And… maybe she won’t have to be locked up in her room anymore if she gets good. Oh, she hopes so.

When her head meets her pillow that night, she dreams of missions and of saving the world.

And while she’s nowhere near that, things are looking up.


	2. That's just a suggestion, right?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I thought this was gonna be serious? Yeah I was wrong. Vanya tries to make a potion mixture thing that's related to dogs and Diego eats it 
> 
> That's it that's the chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry lmao this story was going to be all serious and good and instead this happened 
> 
> Also I didn't beta read this either rip

It’s a foggy October morn, and most of the Hargreeves children are asleep, snuggled in their beds. They probably will be for a few more hours. Vanya, however, is awake, rubbing her eyes blearily. She yawns and slides out of her comfortable bed.

She’s taken to keeping her book on her nightstand purely so she can read it during the night. If she has a bad dream or can’t seem to go to sleep, it’s right there. Always is.

She opens it up now and reads the index, scanning the words. So far, she’s only done the small fire spell, but she’s feeling risky today. Maybe she’ll try a potion.

She reads through the potions, listed in alphabetical order, and finds one that sounds interesting. She finds the page and flips to it. There’s a dark pencil sketch of a dog near the title. She smiles. She loves dogs.

She’s not sure how she’s going to get these ingredients. Different plants and spices she barely recognizes. Except Reginald has a garden (which Grace tends to, mostly, but also Pogo sometimes), which means she might be able to sneak down there.

She slips out of her dimly lit room, watches the pale azure sky for a second as she descends into the family greenhouse. She picks what she thinks she needs (most things aren’t labeled; however, there are pretty pictures of what the ingredients should look like on different pages throughout the book) and goes to the kitchen next. She grabs a bowl, a spoon, a spatula, and a whisk before stumbling back up to her room.

She sits on the floor and opens up her book to the right page, smiling all the while. She ignores the side effects listed and pauses at the experience. It reads, in black font, that a good amount of experience in potion-making is needed.

Yeah, well, that’s just a recommendation, right? She shrugs. What’s the worst that could happen?

She follows the directions as accurately as she can. Puts in the various leaves and spices. Adds some water. Mixes.

While she’s working, merrily humming a little tune, there comes a knock at her door. She frowns and sets down her concoction. So what if it needed to be stirred constantly? This… this will just take a second, really.

She gets up and opens the door. Klaus is standing on the other side.

“Heyy, sis— ooh, you brought food!” He makes his way to the bowl with the greenish-blue sludge. She winces.

“Hey, don’t– I’m not done yet.”

“Where’d you even get the recipe for this?” He has the spatula in his hand, and he’s watching globs of the mixture fall. “Do you bake it?”

“I– uh. Maybe?”

He turns, “You don't even know?”

“Klaus, seriously.” She takes the wooden spatula with the rubber top back and continues mixing. Her brother frowns.

“Gh, finee.” He sits next to her, cross-legged. She rolls her eyes and continues following the recipe. It actually does need to be baked, which would’ve been nice to know beforehand, but there’s nothing she can do about it now.

She finds the kitchen and plops the mix onto a baking sheet. She makes little drops (because it’d be weird to have a thin crispy mess) and puts her stolen pan in the oven.

And now she waits. She sits on the counter instead of a stool, much to her father’s dismay (or it would be if he knew). Klaus is off somewhere else, probably in his room.

Twenty minutes pass and she takes the things out of the oven. She has a vague memory of one of her siblings mumbling, “I hate this part,” before taking a pan out of the oven with their bare hands. She chuckles, staring at the towels covering her hands.

She lets the drops of gunk cool down for a few minutes, then transfers them to a dish. There are only a few. She’d expected more, but nope. Just two green blobs on a plate.

Klaus comes back into Vanya’s room minutes after she herself wandered in. She’d cleaned the kitchen and put everything back in its place so no one would be suspicious or angry. Now she’s holding one of her baked goods to the light, examining it closely.

“Ooh, can I have one?” He sits down on the floor, right next to her.

“Are you sure you _want_ one? I mean… did you even look at it?” She glances at it, grimacing slightly.

“Oh cmon, it can’t be _that_ bad.”

“Klaus, we have literally no idea what this thing does—”

“—What is that supposed to mean?”

“I, um.”

“Are these _edibles?! Vanya,_ really?”

“No, they’re not edibles!” She smacks him lightly. “I wouldn’t.”

“Didn’t you take stuff from the greenhouse?”

“Yeah, but nothing like that!”

“Hmm. Well, Diego was hungry earlier…” And before she knows what’s happening, Klaus snatches a ball and rushes out. She goes to her door and listens.

“K-Klaus, I’m not eating that,” Diego says. Vanya smiles and leans in further.

“What? Why not?”

“Remember the b-brownies?” A gasp.

“I thought those were the normal ones!” Klaus shouts.

“O-oh yeah, sure you d-did.”

“Will you just eat it? It’s not going to kill you.”

“Is it gonna do something e-else?” He seems partially convinced. It’s not like Vanya’s going to stop them from doing this.

“It’s gonna make you not hungry?”

“F-fine, just hand it over.”

Vanya ducks her head and slips back into her room. She waits for a shout, or a chuckle, or anything to show that the potion worked.

But there’s nothing.

She frowns, disappointment growing. Just as she’s getting her bearings, a man with a monocle runs into the hallway shouting about a mission.

She doesn’t want to go for once.

* * *

It’s around four p.m. when Vanya’s siblings get back. They all go to their respective rooms— she can hear their footsteps, especially Luther’s— and don’t talk much.

It’s later, a little while later, when she hears a commotion.

“K-K-Klaus, what did you _d-do_ to me?!” Diego hisses. He’s seething. Vanya peeks out to see the interaction better because she’s sure as hell not going to stop it now. This is way more fun than that. Diego has his hands pressed firmly to his head, she notices.

“Me? I didn’t do anything! What are you talking about?” Klaus asks.

“O-oh _really_? Y-you make me eat s-something, a-and—”

“—And what?”

“Y-you know what? I’m l-leaving.” He storms off, leaving a bewildered Klaus standing in his doorway.

Moments later, while Vanya is hiding, Diego appears at her door.

“Oh, hey Diego. What’s up?”

Diego rushes inside and quickly shuts the door.

“D-d-did… d-did you make that g-green b-blob?”

Vanya frowns, “Yeah? And what are you doing with your hands?”

Her brother sighs deeply, “So y-you did th-this.” He moves his hands and Vanya’s eyes widen. She breaks into a grin. He’s got fuzzy brown dog ears, colored like his hair. So it worked! Not like it should’ve, which makes sense because the potion was geared to more professional witches, but still. There’s _something._

“Wait, do you have a tail?”

“That’s not h-helping!” But he turns around, and sure enough, there it is.

“I wonder what breed you are…”

“V-Vanyaa.”

Someone knocks at the door. Diego yelps.

“H-he can’t see me l-like this!” her brother whispers, wide-eyed. Vanya shrugs and opens the door, although to her credit she does try to hide the shaky form of her knife-wielding brother.

“Heey, so— wait, do you have a dog in there?!” His eyes light up, twinkling like Christmas lights. Before Vanya can stop him, he’s shoving his way into the room.

And then he bursts into laughter. The situation is so amusing that he rolls on the floor, tears streaming down his face.

“Oh— oh my God!” He wipes the water from his eyes. Vanya grimaces, but it _is_ pretty funny. “You’re like those anime girls!”

Diego sputters, “I-I am _n-n-not_!”

“You so are!” He walks into the room and examines Diego’s new appendages.

“P-p-please tell me this will go a-away.”

“It… should.”

Diego groans while the other two siblings smile.

“Come on, this is funny!”

“No, it’s n-not!”

Another knock at the door. “Oh, come _on—”_

Vanya opens the door and more people flood in with their own questions.

“What’s happening?” Luther.

“Are you guys all right?” Ben.

“What’s so funny?” Allison.

“I’m just… here.” Five.

She welcomes the rest of the Hargreeves siblings into her room. They all smile and laugh and grin when they see Diego. They all decide to hang out and play with Diego’s new features; he denies wanting to chase balls but he’ll begrudgingly get anything they throw. It’s fun.

And even though the mixture didn’t come out right, she’s sure this will work out just fine.


	3. I got hit by the angst train

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rip I don't really remember what happens but I'm pretty sure there was like "gore" probably mild but yknow, be safee
> 
> Didn't even glance at this after I wrote it so I'm sorry for any grammar mistakes
> 
> Also hey, I kinda based this magic on what I saw on The Owl House (took inspiration from it lol) so yeah just felt like mentioning it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still thinking abt the time when I thought I was muted but I wasn't and the guest speaker just made a face of pure confusion

“So you’re like, magic now?” Ben asks, hesitant, like Vanya had been at first, when she wouldn’t speak the words for fear of having to watch the world dissolve into a foggy morning once more. Vanya only sighs now, because they all know, the secret is out. She’s not ready.

Klaus gasps, “Can you make me fly?!” It comes out like he’s in awe, eyes sparkling with wonder and delight. Like a kid on Christmas morning when Santa comes riding with his reindeer. Not that Vanya would understand; all she got on that holiday was disappointment and grief. Mourning what could have been if only she were different. If only she were special like her siblings.

She shakes her head. She _is_ now.

Except.

“Klaus you can literally do that already,” Allison replies, waving him off. Vanya smiles gratefully until she says, “Do me!”

“Guys. I’m not doing it.” She can’t have Reginald find out about this... stuff. She only practices in the early hours of the morning, when the sun hasn’t even begun to spread across the sky, and at night, when it’s so dark she needs a flashlight to read the words.

She doesn’t get much sleep, but it’s necessary.

So, it’s only been a day since Diego was affected by one of her tests. He’s fine now, it barely lasted the night. He refuses to speak about the incident. She would take you through the night but she can’t be bothered. Just imagine a really awkward night of throwing balls around the room. That’s basically it.

She wishes she could be better. Good. Awesome. Instead she messes everything up. Is that even a surprise though?

“I think we should tell Dad,” Luther mumbles, his first words of the day it seems. She flinches.

“Don’t you dare.” It comes out cold and harsh.

A few of her siblings share looks but she pretends not to notice. It’s her power, why do they have to involve Reginald? Sure, she wanted to tell him, but only when she was actually good at anything. She still sucks.

Maybe she always will.

“Or what? You can’t stop me. It’s a good idea, we all know it.”

“It’s not your place!” Diego fights on Vanya’s side. She nods. Luther shakes his head, not listening to Vanya’s pleads.

“I’m telling. He would want to know.”

“No—!” she shouts, desperation seeping into her words. But Luther is already walking towards their Dad’s office. And it’s not like anyone could stop the overly large ape with a conscience; he’s strong. Diego still makes an effort, which she appreciates. Well she would if she wasn’t making a mad dash to get to her room before Reginald comes out of his.

She shuts the door and waits with baited breath as a hush falls over the house like snow blankets a lush forest. Loud footsteps make their way towards her room. She shakes, standing on weak limbs, pressing her back against the door.

“Number Seven,” she hears from the other side of her oaken door. She freezes, eyes going wide. “Open the door, Number Seven.”

Her gaze darts around the room wildly as she searches for something, _anything_ , to stop this from happening.

And then she hears the telltale sign of Reginald opening the lock. He has keys to all of their rooms— shit, how could she have forgotten?

He opens the door and she steps aside, since there’s not much she can do anymore. The man walks into the room, muttering darkly under his breath.

Vanya waits for him to say something about her newfound powers. It takes a minute for her dad to gather his thoughts.

“These... aren’t really your powers, are they, Number Seven?” He’s at her desk, toying with one of her trinkets, but his gaze is sharp— and completely trained on her. She tries not to falter under his death stare.

“They are.” Reginald makes a face.

“Number Seven, you cannot take what isn’t yours.”

“Why _can’t_ they be mine?!” she shouts, irritation finding its way into her speech. The man only sighs.

“I’m doing what’s best for you,” he says, taking the book in his hands. “No more magic.”

“But—“

“No buts! I forbid you from practicing this— this _nonsense_!”

“It’s not _nonsense_ —“ But he’s already leaving, along with her book and her mid morning daydreams.

——————

Life doesn’t work out the way it should. People die, dreams get crushed, and you have to hold on to the smallest bits of reality if you don’t want to end up like everyone else. Crying during the night where no one can see you. Skipping meals. Avoiding all your problems until they meld into one giant clump of bad days and nightmares and endless torture.

That’s how Vanya feels. Like the world is giving in. Like she is giving up.

But this can’t be it! If it‘s so true, why would there be adults still roaming the Earth’s surface? Wouldn’t it be easier to make it all stop?

She takes stock of her room. It’s messy and unorganized. She hasn’t been feeling up to doing much recently. She hasn’t even played the violin for _weeks._

But such is life when your parent refuses to let you accomplish anything.

She sighs to herself, softly. She’s in her room, trying to remember even a little of the magic from her book. She can feel tears pricking her eyes but she ignores them.

But there’s nothing in her mind other than disappointment.

She groans in frustration and looks up at her ceiling, as if for guidance. It doesn’t move, just stares back in that blank ceiling kind of way. But still... if it can be plain and still accomplish what it needs to do, why can’t she? Can’t she save people, even without her book? It was only a crutch, after all. At least, that’s what she’d expected Reginald to say.

Still, what if she just... tried?

And so a plan was formed.

————-

It’s late at night, and Vanya is stalking down the halls of the Hargreeves mansion. She turns a corner and walks into Allison’s room. She rummages around in her sister’s closet and finds the hero mask she’s always wanted to put on. But... she should be different. She turns it over in her hand, contemplating. She could always make herself a mask. But she doesn’t know how to do that. Great, she should’ve thought this out earlier.

She makes her way to the household storage room, where she knows a bunch of domino masks and outfits are waiting. They’re there purely because of the possibility that someone might ruin their uniform or rip their mask.

She sees a small mask, shaped oddly. It’s buried deep in the box, like someone was hiding it. She takes it in her hands. There are black triangle-esque shapes around its white eyes. The rest of the mask is a creamy off-white color. It’s perfect.

She doesn’t bother with the uniforms; she’d saved up enough money to get a white one.It’s kinda different, but she still likes it.

She heads to her room and puts on her hero outfit, including the mask she’d just found. She admires her reflection in the mirror attached to her wall.

Time to kick some ass.

——-

Vanya slips out her window and falls to the ground. She catches herself, hands brushing the rough cement. She should get some gloves, maybe a black tie. Make it pop more, who knows. But for now, she’s just wearing her cheap uniform, and she has scraped palms.

She makes her way downtown, walking fast. There aren’t very many crimes, or not that she can see, anyway.

And then she hears a woman scream. She berates herself for wanting to smile and runs off in that direction.

She skids to a halt. The scene she comes upon makes her sick. She blanches.

There’s a woman with a fountain pen lodged in her foot. She’s tied to a street light, legs dangling slightly. There are a few bruises on her body, and her arms are immobile. A tall man stands to her side, eyes glinting with foretold danger.

Vanya frowns, slightly startled, before clearing her throat.

“Everything okay here, ma’am?” She cringes at the wording. Of course it’s not. This adult has a... oh God. She can’t look. There’s blood. She can barely stand to look at this.

“Help me,” the lady whispers. Hey, is this what it’s usually like? Because this is weird.

“Get away from her.” Vanya stares down the man, who temporarily wilts under her gaze before getting his bearings.

“Or what?”

“Or I’m going to make you.” She wishes she’d brought something to attack with, but she just has her fists.

“What’s a little girlie like you going to do to me? Huh? Make me sparkle?” He laughs to himself, but there’s an edge of irritation to it.

She strides over, confident and suave. She brings her fist back and moves to punch the guy. But she’s never had practice like her siblings. She gets blocked easily, and fear crosses over her face for a split second.

And then, an idea. She dodges the tall man’s swinging limbs and asks the chained lady for a pen.

“I have one in my foot and one in my pocket. Which one do you want?” Vanya smiles a little and takes the one from her pocket. While she’s running around, blocking punches and throwing some, she tears off a piece of her shirt. She quickly draws the symbol for ice and slams it in the direction of the bad guy.

A large block of ice shoots out from her makeshift weapon, slamming into his chest and hitting him against the wall. He shouts and falls to the ground, shaking. She feels kind of bad, but goes to the girl.

“Are you all right?”

“Be careful—!” Vanya nods and takes the ropes off, putting them around the strange man to keep him from getting away.

“I’ll call the paramedics, okay? You’ll be fine.” The lady nods and Vanya calls them, explaining all of the injuries. The man looks slightly remorseful, but mostly angry. She waits until she knows that the guy has been arrested before she leaves.

“Wait—- hey—“ Vanya turns to the voice, eyes kind.

“Yeah?”

“Who are you?”

“You can call me... the White Violin.” Aw wait, the White Mage would be so cool, though. Well, it’s too late, anyway. Violins _are_ pretty awesome.

She leaves with a smile on her face.


	4. It's over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> im so sorry this is really bad but I had to finish this somehow,,,,,,, yeah. Did I even read this? no

Sunlight is streaming in through the many windows of the Hargreeves mansion. The remaining dead leaves blow across the gray streets.

Vanya is in her room, practicing her fighting skills. After she’d saved that one lady, she’d gained quite a reputation for herself. The White Violin, an up-and-coming hero that could topple the entirety of the Umbrella Academy with her smarts and a withering gaze. That lady must’ve been a writer, or an influencer, or _someone_ important, because damn, everyone is talking.

Vanya had actually gone out a few more times. She really just earned herself a few bruises. Regardless, she’s getting there, with or without the help of her dumb father. What did he know, anyway? It’s not like _he_ has powers. He’s just normal.

Like she was.

She lowers her arm and moves out of her fighting stance. She stares at herself in a mirror. Her reflection stares back. Cropped hair, no more bangs. She’d decided to change her hair up so it would be less easy to pull on in fights. Plus, a change is always nice.

Tonight, she was going to do something extraordinary. Something amazing. And it will be all her, and she’ll show everyone that no matter what you can help people. You can accomplish your dreams.

But is that even true?

* * *

Pinks and oranges stretch across the cloudy sky. Vanya is putting on white fingerless gloves (because they look cool) and her usual suit. Grace washed it for her, not knowing what it was for– though Vanya knows her mom would be supportive, it’s best to not tell anyone just yet. She can’t let this get ripped away. It’s hers, and it’s _only hers,_ so no one should get to touch it.

She puts on her mask, and by the time she’s ready, night has fallen. Stars twinkle in the dark purple sky. She stares out her window for a minute, listening to the rustling of foraging animals and the scuttling of tiny bugs. The gentle breeze brushing everything, the cars in the distance.

And then she pulls herself up and over, into the familiar unknown.

* * *

Weeks go by. Her siblings are starting to notice a bit of a lapse in criminal activity. She has to hide her sly grins whenever they mention it— even if a few of them look strangely excited?

She doesn’t stop to wonder why, just keeps on walking. One foot in front of the other.

And yet she can tell something is coming. She knows what it is, but she still hopes that God herself will take sympathy on her and spare her this particular hell.

Alas, she does not.

She’d been on a mission, a simple robbery with a hostage and a gunman who seemed hesitant to kill. She’d jumped on that, convinced him to _put down the gun, it’s okay now._

Now she’s staring, slack-jawed, at a group of teenagers in the entrance. Superheroes with domino masks and matching outfits. And they’re staring right at her, at the scene.

She smirks, because what else is she going to do? She’s fucking proud, and smug, and hey– they were just too slow.

She kicks the gun away and holds her arms out for the gunman, a teen, whose cheeks are wet with tears. He walks forward, dark brown hair covering his tired, sad eyes. She puts her eyes on him and gives him a small smile.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” he mumbles, a mantra. He’s trembling. She knows this isn’t okay, and that something could happen to him, but they need to find him help. And if there’s an adult involved… fix that.

She lets him go, tells him to see the teenagers huddled in the corner, whispering, before taking her leave. She rushes out the door and is quick to make her escape to the mansion. She’s out of breath when she climbs up and into her room. Do they know?

When they come back, she’s already changed into her normal clothes. She’s even got her violin on her bed for extra authenticity.

Her door opens quietly, and to her surprise, Diego walks in. He’s the one that sucks with emotions, so what’s he even doing?

He sits down and she stills.

“…Are you the W-White V-V-Violin?” She takes a second to panic before nodding. “I saw you t-today… you looked r-r-really cool.”

What? Cool?

He must see it, because he says, “Y-Yeah. Cool.”

Five walks in, and then all of her other siblings, and she just. Stares. What does this mean? They never liked her so much before.

“We won’t tell,” Luther mumbles, looking somewhat apologetic, eyes downcast. She grins.

“Thanks guys.”

And that’s just how it is, for the rest of her time at the academy; kicking ass, racing and competing with The Umbrella Academy to see who gets there first. Getting fanmail from her siblings because she can’t tell people where she actually lives. Complimenting each other and caring about how everyone is doing.

And it’s pretty great, actually.


End file.
